


Autumn Leaves

by judes



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-11
Updated: 2011-08-11
Packaged: 2017-10-22 12:31:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/238023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/judes/pseuds/judes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A challenge story and my first in Pros fandom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Autumn Leaves

Autumn Leaves

By

Judes

  


Written for the ProsFanFic Autumn Challenge 2009 but posted somewhat later due to my inability to understand deadlines!

Beta’d by Shirl (ILWB) but all remaining errors are totally mine.

  


Red, gold, brown, bronze and green leaves flitted around the feet of the man sitting on the bench in the small secluded park.  Surrounded on all four sides by tall, anonymous office buildings, it was a little known haven of peace and quiet amidst the noise and bustle of a capital city and an ideal place to sit and think.

The London skyline had changed a lot but somehow the park had remained much as it was when he first joined CI5.  He could remember the first time he’d stormed out of the decrepit building, which hid the elite anti-crime squad, and found a bench on which to contemplate life’s ills.  “Brooding” according to Bodie, but he felt it was more a need to ponder and reflect.  On that occasion though, it had been Bodie himself who had engendered the ill-tempered retreat but he couldn’t now recall what particular instance had triggered it.

Funny how often he’d sat in this very park.  Somehow his life had followed cycles which led him back, if not to this very bench, then to one much like it.  Oh, the work locations had changed as the CI5 HQ was moved from site to site but this refuge was always there.

As the leaves continued to skitter around his feet, his mind slipped into memory.  Autumn was a time of change and somehow quite a number of the most momentous events of his life had happened during this mellow season.

*****

He’d been recruited into CI5 in the summer of 1976 but it wasn’t until he’d completed the gruelling introductory training course that he first met his partner, William Andrew Philip Bodie.  Cowley introduced them one autumn morning.  It was definitely not love at first sight or even particularly friendly.  There was certainly no inkling that it would be one of the defining friendships of his life and one of the greatest partnerships within CI5.  “Legends in their own lunchtime,” according to Bodie.  But that was later.

Cowley was convinced that this “chalk and cheese” partnering would work and he listened to neither of them as they separately pleaded the case for changing partners during the first few months.  Gradually they came to trust each other, each starting to rely on the other’s strengths and compensating for their weaknesses.

The cases came thick and fast over the years: some simply boring observation and others bordering on the terrifying and lots in between.  The partnership grew and strengthened with each case.  Disparate personalities meshing into one unit.  The friendship took a little longer to establish but eventually Doyle could no longer imagine his life without Bodie. 

*****

It had been a fine autumn day, blue sky, crisp air, swirling leaves, the kind of day when it’s good to be alive.  Though unhappy with the Coroner’s Court verdict on the two young terrorists, Ray Doyle found himself humming as he completed several, long-neglected domestic tasks.  Finally picking up a few essential groceries, he headed back to his current flat.

As he walked through the lounge door, he knew something wasn’t right.  There was a dark shadow against the semi-curtained windows.  "How'd you get in here?"

He got no further as the first shot slammed into him, the groceries falling as he did, the milk spilling out onto the floor to be joined by his blood.  As he hit the floor, there was no pain; the shock, as yet, too great for his senses to register.  He knew he was dead.  There was no coming back from this.

But, instead of taking the kill shot, the assassin put the second bullet into his back before fleeing.

Ray Doyle almost died that autumn day.  The dreams or visions that haunted him in hospital during the first hours and days of his recovery seemed to pull together all his doubts and fears about his chosen life path but somehow he rediscovered his will to live. There was a long road of recovery ahead of him, and it would be autumn again before he was back to full strength on the A Squad but he was back on track.

*****

No sooner had Ray returned to full fitness than Bodie was recalled to the SAS to serve in The Falklands conflict.  When the war ended in June 1982, Doyle expected his partner to return to CI5 but it was four months before Bodie strolled back into HQ, acting as if his absence were of no importance.

*****

But autumn wasn’t all about difficult changes.  The “season of mists and mellow fruitfulness” was also a golden time. 

On 22 September 1984, Liverpool drew one all with Manchester United; Queen played Hanover on The Works Tour, the Tim Rice / Stephen Oliver musical, Blondel, closed in the West End; the last race ever was run at The White City Greyhound Stadium before it was demolished make way for an extension to the BBC Television complex, and the Soyuz T-10 crew was preparing to return to Earth in Soyuz T-11 after 7 months in orbit.  A perfectly ordinary day.  But it was the day that William Andrew Philip Bodie married Sophie Joyce Dawson at Marylebone Register Office with Raymond Doyle as his Best Man.

There weren’t many guests at the actual service.  Neither party had many relatives or close friends but that didn’t seem to concern the couple.  They’d met during the course of a CI5 assignment so Sophie had known from the start what she was letting herself in for but, whilst she was concerned for Bodie’s health and wellbeing, she knew how much the job meant to him.  The ceremony was brief and to the point, with Ray Doyle and George Cowley formally witnessing the marriage.

Afterwards they retired to the Durrants Hotel, just off Oxford Street, for a quiet meal in the lovely Regency building.  Ray couldn’t remember seeing his partner happier and he wished him well as he made sure the couple got themselves and their luggage into the cab which would whisk them to Heathrow for their honeymoon flight.

*****

The Doyle wedding, a year later, was an altogether different affair.  The only common denominator seemed to be the time of year. 

St Mary’s Parish, Derby, was packed with Doyle family and friends from school, CI5 and the Met (those who could get away) and even a couple from Ray’s brief foray into the art world.  The magnificent church rang to the rafters as the whole congregation joined the choir in celebrating the union of Raymond Doyle and Megan Ashbridge.

It was a crazy, joyous day, which Bodie later remembered in kaleidoscopic bits and pieces.  The Catholic wedding service was long as Ray had acceded to his mother’s wish for a full nuptial mass.  The church was fragranced with a multitude of flowers arranged by Ray’s sisters.  Ray stood tall and proud next to Bodie as they watched Megan drift down the aisle, a smiling vision in white lace and autumn flowers: scented garden roses, with mint, rosemary, ivy, and rosehips.

The photographer and his assistant had their work cut out for them, trying to organise the various groups.  Nieces and nephews, second cousins and friends’ children added to the chaos outside the church but eventually the whole crowd moved onto a local hotel to enjoy a huge sit-down meal followed by a disco.  Even Bodie was persuaded to join in the dancing after his best man’s speech had the whole room roaring with laughter.

Eventually as the party started to wind down, the bride and groom escaped to enjoy two weeks in Italy.

*****

The following years established CI5’s worth as a security organisation but it had remained very much the remit of one man, George Cowley.  If the organisation were to survive either his retirement or death, there needed to be a succession plan in place.  Cowley didn’t trust politicians to continue his work or their ability to find the right man for his job so he started to look internally.

Over the years he had built a strong team of active agents, backed up by the trainers, research and administration staff, but it didn’t take him long to realise that there was really only one choice for his successor.  Or rather two.  Gradually he put together a plan, garnered support in the corridors of power and, in the summer of 1986, two new roles of Deputy Controller were announced.  As was usual in the Civil Service, even in such an autonomous body as CI5, the posts had to be advertised, albeit internally, but after the interview and assessment process was complete, CI5 had Deputy Controllers Bodie and Doyle.

******

A bigger shock arrived on 5th November 1987 when Sophie Bodie presented her bewildered husband with identical twin sons.  Weighing in a 6lbs and 5lbs 3 ozs respectively, Andrew and Raymond Bodie made their presence felt from the very start. 

With his new Deputy Controller’s role now firmly under his belt, Bodie moved his new family to a four bedroom detached property in the leafy suburb of Sutton.  Whilst security would always be a concern for anyone associated with his type of job, the house and street were a relatively anonymous retreat from the threats surrounding him on a daily basis.

Ray and Megan continued to live in a variety of CI5 flats though the quality improved as his status changed.  Somehow Ray became the “public” face of CI5, which enhanced the risks to the couple, so it made sense for them to remain in secure accommodation.  Megan, as a qualified social worker, worked long hours in Childrens’ Services at a variety of London boroughs but somehow they managed to make their work and private lives gel.

To the surprise of almost everyone, except Ray Doyle, domesticity appeared to suit Bodie.  He happily left behind his chequered past and wild bachelor days (and nights).  But even Ray was surprised at how well fatherhood suited him. 

In the early months, Bodie would often be found with one or both twins asleep in his arms after he’d settled them down, allowing Sophie to recuperate from a sleepless night.  Doyle even carried the photographic proof after he’d crept into the suburban lounge to find Bodie in an armchair with one twin over his shoulder and the other face down across his father’s knees.  All three were fast asleep.  It was too good an opportunity to miss.

*****

CI5 continued to grow and flourish under the leadership of George Cowley and his Deputy Controllers.  It sometimes seemed as if Cowley would go on forever, his energy seemed boundless, but those who knew him well saw the toll that time and an impossible job took on the aging man.  But everyone expected him to stay in charge as long as there were threats to be met, knowing that his indomitable spirit imbued the organisation with strength and will.

The aims of CI5 remained the same despite the changing world scene.  In 1985, Gorbachev became Secretary General of the Soviet Communist Party and the road to détente began.  In 1989 the Berlin Wall was demolished and the city of Berlin reunited in December of the same year.  Suddenly it appeared that the Eastern Bloc was no longer “the enemy” but CI5 continued to work alongside its international counterparts (Interpol and Europol) to ensure that détente was a reality as well as a dream.  Internally, CI5 continued to work alongside Special Branch and MI5 to combat terrorism, not only from the Irish separatists but the increasing threat from Islamic extremists.  Britain maintained its stance of “no negotiation with terrorists” so the security services had their work cut out for them to resolve or prevent situations.

Cowley’s assassination in October 1991 left everyone reeling.  The man had fought against those trying to reduce the United Kingdom through the bomb tactics of the IRA, the criminal activities of crime and drug syndicates, the skulduggery of Russian and Eastern bloc spymasters and the general mayhem that resulted when human beings believed they could achieve their aims through violence.  In the end, though, it was a hysterical, grieving mother, who broke through Cowley’s guard, stabbing him, having mistaken him for the Home Secretary (a role Cowley had previously played to foil the Turkel brothers) as they both left a meeting of the Prime Minister’s Security Council.  She believed the Home Secretary to be responsible for the death of her son in Northern Ireland and it was ironic that the man she mistakenly killed had been working for years to bring about peace in that troubled land.  It was an unlikely death in many ways but the knife struck a major artery in Cowley’s leg and he bled out as those around him tried to stem the flow, calling for an ambulance, as the woman was restrained and led away.

Grief stricken, Bodie and Doyle stood by Cowley’s grave on a wind blown autumn day, leaves blowing around their feet in a chaotic dance.  Sombre in their dark suits and overcoats, they added a handful of soil as they walked past the hole before it was filled in for the final time.  The graveside service was brief and only those closest to Cowley were in attendance.  A memorial service was to be arranged for the great and the good to honour the memory of a man who had been a pillar of the security service for decades.  Now was for the few family members and the people who had worked closest with him to pay their last respects.

But CI5 would continue.  Its foundations were strong and the team, though still small, was utilising all their skills and experience, along with the new technologies, to continue Cowley’s war. 

Whilst the security situation changed during the 1990s with the emphasis moving away from Irish terrorism, there was a new scale and extent of threats from international terrorists using unconventional methods and weapons, threatening targets in the UK and overseas with an attendant threat to public order.  Bodie and Doyle worked together to ensure that the threats were countered, often using the terrorists’ own methods against them.

*****

Throughout these years, and no matter the grief, the 5th of November remained a day of celebration as Andy and Ray Bodie grew up believing that all the bonfires and fireworks were in honour of their birth.  Even as they realised this wasn’t in fact the case, the date (or as close to it as possible) was an opportunity to get all the CI5 family together.

The memories from those nights glowed as brightly as the autumn leaves, a golden time.  Bonfires and baked potatoes, barbequed sausages and sparklers, Roman candles and Catherine Wheels that never spun, cold noses and warm hands, children’s and adults’ faces alight with excitement.

*****

Of course autumn also brought other changes.  In the aftermath of the 9/11 terrorist attacks in the US, a review of the UK security services led to the winding-up of CI5.  Just over 12 months later, Bodie and Doyle took slightly separate but still linked career paths: Bodie to MI5, heading a section devoted to anti-terrorist prevention in the UK, and Doyle to head the Metropolitan Police Anti-Terrorist Unit.  The closedown of the CI5 offices, the dispersal of the staff to other security branches, civilian life or retirement and the archiving or re-distribution of 30 years worth of intelligence, both on computer files and on paper, were mammoth operations and it took 9 months before the doors could be closed for the final time on 4th October 2002.

Work and family life managed to rub along fairly well over the next couple of years.  Bodie and Sophie coped well with their two boisterous teenagers, steering them away from the temptations of drink and drugs, encouraging their love of climbing and football and trying to ensure that their schoolwork stayed at a reasonable standard.  Bodie’s working hours remained long and erratic but Sophie had accepted the whole package when she married him though she had been heard to moan on occasion as to exactly who did he think he was married to: her or the service.

Ray and Megan had decided that they did not want children, having more than enough nieces and nephews to fill any gap.  They were devoted to each other and to their careers and were delighted to be a surrogate aunt and uncle to the Bodie twins. They devoted a number of their precious days off to “kidnapping” the twins and giving their sometimes harassed parents some equally precious time to themselves.  Of course, they also spoiled them rotten but such was the privilege of not being their parents.

*****

Autumn colours swirled and blurred.  Three months on from that dreadful July day, the pain was still a roaring, screeching ache deep in Ray Doyle’s guts.  As he stood, once more, at a graveside, he was still unable to encompass the enormity of the tragedy of 7th July 2005 when terrorists had struck at the heart of London and in so doing struck at the heart of Raymond Doyle.

The grave was, as yet, unmarked in any permanent way.  In the aftermath of any major catastrophe, time has to be taken to identify the injured and the dead.  Post mortems have to be carried out and paperwork processed before bodies can be released to grieving families.  The funeral had only taken place a month earlier and the soil had yet to settle to allow a gravestone to be placed but he already knew what it would say:

“Megan Doyle

born 15 December 1947

died  7 July 2005

Beloved Wife”

Twenty years of marriage, partnership, support and love ripped from him in an instant.  Megan wasn’t even supposed to be in Kings Cross at that time but had been delayed by Ray, who was enjoying a rare day off, calling her back to bed and she left the flat an hour later.  She was in the wrong place at the wrong time and her death left a huge hole in his life and overwhelming guilt at unwittingly being the cause.

He threw himself into his work, even more determined to make an end of the terrorist threats but nothing would bring her back.

*****

A year later saw yet another change in Doyle’s life as he retired from the Met and set up Professional Security Resources, with Bodie as a silent (well, almost silent) partner.  Using their vast experience and contacts, the company was to provide training packages to cover tactical, operational and strategic activities to meet law enforcement and national security requirements.  Their aim was to help students to survive those difficult and sometimes dangerous situations by offering an outstanding level of training based on real-life incidents.  Working with specialist manufacturers of training ammunition, they were able to provide the realism of live fire training without the lethal impact of service ammunition. 

Slowly but surely they built a team of fully trained military instructors and law enforcement officers who had the skills and experience to pass on to their students and they built a reputation for providing the most up to date training methods, drills and tactics.

The aim was to take Doyle, and later Bodie, off the front line but keep them in touch with the security of the realm.  Neither man saw full time retirement in their futures and both wanted to remain useful.

*****

Bodie strode across the grass.  He looked like a man released from stress, a huge smile on his still handsome face.  Doyle stood to greet him.  “How’d it go, mate?”

“Fine, fine.  I’m a free man!” Bodie slung his arm around Doyle’s shoulders as they started to move towards the gate.  “Now, how about that drink you owe me?”

“Drink, what drink?”

“The one you promised me when we agreed I should retire now rather than take on the role of Director, International Counter Terrorism, Counter Espionage, Counter Proliferation.  And I deserve a drink for remembering that job title!”

“Oh that drink,” Doyle pulled away from his friend. “Actually I don’t think I’ve enough cash on me to cover that.”  He grinned.

“You don’t get out of it that easily. They take debit cards these days.”  Catching up with the slowly fleeing Doyle, Bodie re-established his arm’s position around his friend’s shoulders.  And the argument continued as they walked away into the London dusk.

A friendship forged in fire had survived over 30 years, tempered by tragedy and love, and they were confidently stepping out into the autumn of their lives: civil servants no more.

  


 

End

  



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